Snowflakes
by Allabm
Summary: New summary! America was a graveyard for immigrants but a gold mine for their children was what Anya was always told. Digging deeper and deeper to find the gold has only caused lonesome and despair. Maybe if her friend could meddle a bit the gold will be found much easier. Fem!RussiaxCanada
1. Chapter 1

What is this? I'm actually writing a fanfiction? So I was too lazy (writer's block (plus school)) to work on Raising Kids or Ouran Encounter, and I've had this idea in my head for a while. For some reason I just had to write a fem!RussiaxCanada, or else my brain would explode. Okay so…let's see…gender bent Russia, and gender bent Belarus so far…there might be a gender bent Lithuania…but I think that's it. Here is something I want to point out. Russia's last name would be Braginskaya not Braginski because in Russia there are feminine and masculine last names. Oh, and this story actually has a PLOT which is something that is rare for my fan fictions…

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter One<strong>_

The sun was shining brightly on the fine spring day. The snow had melted away, wishing everyone a joyful spring. Spring, was beautiful…just like her loved one's heart. The tall woman smiled and looked at the glimmering band on her left hand. The ring sparkled and twinkled in the sunshine.

_Just like his smile,_ she thought. Her husband was an angel sent to her, to break her from her mind, and the madness called life. He was here to break her from the madness. Okay, so maybe she was a little crazy for calling him an angel, but he is sweet and charming.

She grabbed the watering can and gently poured water into the pot that held the sunflowers. Anya Braginskaya smiled, because she knew she was a lucky woman.

* * *

><p>Unfortunate luck. That was all Anya ever had. Bad luck. Today was no exception. Her stupid Korean neighbor and that stupid French guy she was supposed to call 'friend' always ruin something. Yong Soo, she believed, had destroyed her car and he was now sporting a black eye. Anya felt bad for her older sister who had to drive her to work. Her friend, Francis, had annoyed her periodically at work, the two both working at the same junior high school.<p>

It all started with him coming into the middle of her classroom, full of students, and as he walked by to grab something miscellaneous, like a stapler, he slapped her ass. Anya's face was priceless. Had the students been good children, there would be no rumor of the seventh grade science teacher, Mr. Bonnefoy, and the eighth grade history teacher, Ms. Braginskaya. With the more students hearing the rumor, the more Francis wanted to play along. Francis even stayed during his lunch break just to tease and do "naughty" things to Anya in front of her students!

Now these things, they made Anya filled with rage. If Francis was like her Korean neighbor, someone who she barely knew and didn't care about, he'd be sporting _two_ black eyes. Unfortunately, they were good friends, but Anya would get him some other way…eventually.

Anya was woken up from her thoughts when her large Caucasian ovcharka puppy, Maxim, jumped onto her lap. She gently pushed him off of her and to the side and he laid his head on her lap instead. She was happy to have an apartment on one of the lower floors, or else it would be hard to walk Maxim, since he hates long elevator rides. Tonight would be relaxing, watch Давай поженимся(1) on the Russian channel, cuddle with the dog, and eat a Prince Polo(2) or two that she picked up from the store a few days ago. If only the next night could be just as relaxing.

* * *

><p>Short chapter is short. I don't like short chapters. :(<p>

But I have no time, and at least I wrote something. Next chapter _should_ be long. I hope...

(1) Давай поженимся/Davaj Pozhenimsja is a Russian television show that can be funny at times. It's a talk show that transfers into "Let's Get Married".

**For more information about it here is the link to the website (English version):** http:/translate .google .com/translate?hl=en&sl=ru&u=http:/ www. davaj-pozhen imsja. ru /&ei=XJUuT5yhI4b30gHr1tz0Cg&sa=X&oi= translate&ct=result &resnum=1&sqi=2&ved=0CCcQ7gEwAA&prev =/search%3Fq%3Ddavaj %2Bp ozheni msja%26h l%3Den%26gb v%3D2% 26biw%3D1 366%26bih %3D562% 26prmd%3D imvns **(Remove the spaces)**

**For more information about it here is the link to the website (Russian Version):** http: /www. davaj-pozhenimsja .ru/ **(Remove the spaces)**

(2) Prince Polo is a Russian (it might be Polish or Israeli…) chocolate wafer bar that is really yummy. Sold in Russian grocery stores, in Brooklyn, along with other Prince and Princessa chocolate wafer bars.


	2. Chapter 2

**I don't think I mentioned this before, but the story is set in the Manhattan/NYC area. Anya lives in the borough of Brooklyn, but she works in Manhattan (not Times Square/Downtown).**

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter Two<strong>_

Her dog was barking loudly as another dog walked pass Anya and Maxim. Her grip around the leash tightened as Maxim was about to go for the beagle being walked by a man. Anya was a little worried. Maxim would always get a bit _too_ excited when seeing another dog. With a quick apology to the man she pulled her overly excited ovcharka away from the beagle.

The first activity of the day was almost over. It was the same every day, get up, walk Maxim, go back home, get ready for work, get to work, get pissed off by Francis and one of the math teachers, Gilbert, go home, walk Maxim, go to bed. Maxim started to bark loudly again but this time at someone riding a bicycle.

* * *

><p>"Then she totally turned down me! The awesome me! How could she turn me down?" Gilbert whined loudly in the teacher's lounge.<p>

"She turned you down because it was you," Anya spoke as she took a gulp of her coffee.

Gilbert scoffed, "You're just jealous because you didn't have Diane's rocking hot body."

"Why would I be jealous of such trash?" questioned Anya giving Gilbert a look.

"Des enfants(1), we mustn't fight. We are all a team here." Francis responded to the bickering two.

"She is hot right Francey? We have to prove this Rusky wrong!" Gilbert pondered.

"Diane is nothing special Gilbert. Get over it. And don't call me a Rusky you damn German!"

"Prussian!"

"Prussia doesn't exist anymore!"

"Yeah because your totally unawesome country destroyed my totally awesome country!"

"Stop saying awesome more than once in a sentence- wait, you know what's even better than that? Not saying the word awesome at all!" Anya shouted.

"Gilbert, Anya, now there is no need for fighting," Francis calmly spoke knowing they'd ignore him. More unenthusiastic pleads came from Francis as the two kept bickering. And then the curses broke out, English, Russian, German, and a little bit of French coming from Anya. "Fermer votre bouches(2)!" Francis yelled, "Are you two insane?"

The fighting stopped.

"Sorry Francis." Anya mumbled. Gilbert did the same.

"Great. You apologized to me. I'll let you off the hook for now," Francis said sarcastically, "Now that that's settled, I'd like to invite you both to a dinner party at my home this evening." The two looked at him as if he was shitting himself.

"Damn, sorry Francey. I can't. It's my grandfather's birthday tonight. West is making sure I get there early too." Gilbert said.

"It is alright. And you Anya?"

"I don't have anything planned for tonight."

"Great! Be there at seven. Au revoir mes amis. I have to go find those dead frogs I ordered."(3)

* * *

><p>"Thank you for letting me come earlier to help you set up Francis."<p>

"Ah, no problem Mathieu. Now excite me would you? How has your sex life been?" Now, before Matthew answers Francis' question, let us have a little review on Matthew's personality. He was a shy, quiet and reserved twenty four year old, which could help us infer that he didn't have much of a social life. Now let us get back to the plot.

"Francis, how could you ask something so crude!"

"Mathieu, all you have to do is answer, or I'll keep bugging you all night and possibly share childhood stories of you to everyone else."

Matthew had to remind himself why he hung out with his cousin, "You wouldn't."

"I would." Francis replied.

"It's alright…You know I'm not like you and I want a stable relationship over a friend with benefits or a one night stand."

"In other words you haven't gone out on a date in quite a long time and you haven't been laid in a year." Francis said. Sometimes Matthew hated how easily Francis could read him.

* * *

><p>One might say that Francis' dinner party was large and flooded with many, then that person may be blind. Francis has many companions and lovers, but he strictly stuck with close friends this evening. One might say that it wasn't really a party considering it was so small, but then that person has never met Francis' friends. One might say that most of the party was filled with awkward moments between guests, and that person is right. It was Francis' younger sister, Magali, one of his best friends Antonio, Lovino, Antonio's boyfriend, his cousin Matthew, his friend Bella, a poor unfortunate soul that would be stuck with Francis forever named Arthur, Francis's cousin Alfred, also the brother of Matthew, (who is running late as always), and Anya who has not arrived yet.<p>

There was awkward chatter going on in Francis' living room while Matthew helped put food on the table since he didn't want Francis to do all of the work himself. Then the door slammed open.

"The hero is here! Now the party can really start!" shouted Alfred, as he walked through the door holding an ice cream cake from Carvel with a crap load of sprinkles and chocolate syrup. Arthur sighed. The second person that knows how to really torture him was here. The first was Francis, but Alfred was coming close to first. Everyone knew that it was time to eat, because if Alfred wanted to, he could eat the entire table. Now, Alfred wasn't fat, but…muscular…? Yeah…that can work…

"Good to see you too Alfred…" Matthew spoke quietly, knowing he'd be ignored. And he was.

"Aw man Francis, I didn't think I'd be able to come tonight, but I made it! I'm starved can we eat?" Alfred asked, while everyone else took their seats.

"Not yet. We are still waiting for someone. She should be here soon…" Francis said.

"So the Frog couldn't go a night without a whore," spoke Arthur.

"For your information, rosbif, I do not have a date tonight. She is a very good friend of mine."

"Please don't inform me that it's that bartender you've been "friendly" with for a few months."

"For the last time, I don't have a date tonight. Besides, I quit all relations with her because she was the one who introduced Gilbert to Diane." Before Arthur could respond, very rudely may I add, there was a knock on the door. Francis, who almost skipped, went to answer the door.

Almost all of Francis' guests expected some sleazy woman with big boobs, no matter how many times Francis tried to explain that he didn't have a date. Nobody expected a tall Russian woman who was ecstatic that a certain "Prussian" wasn't there, especially a good hearted American by the name of Alfred, who sometimes forgot that the Cold War was over. At least they got the boob part right. The Frenchman and the Russian woman said their hello's to each other.

"Everyone, this is Anya." With a grin, Anya had greeted everyone, even though she had met Antonio and Arthur a few times, and took a seat next to a very quiet Canadian male. After a bit more awkwardness, the dinner commenced. There were conversations about work, friends, and of course family.

"Did you guys know that Mattie used to suck his thumb until he was six?" said Alfred who was gulfing down French cuisine. Matthew blushed and looked down. Everyone stared at him.

"And I remember he always carried that polar bear toy around with him! How old was he when he stopped that Alfred?" was what came out of Francis' mouth.

"Thirteen!" Commence obnoxious laughter coming from the pair. Hadn't Francis said he _wouldn't_ share stories tonight? Matthew thought.

"At least I didn't eat our mother's lipstick when I was five," Matthew snapped back at Alfred, "And I didn't wear panties when I was four because I thought they were comfortable," eyes directing at Francis. You mess with the bull, you get the horns. Anya couldn't hold back a giggle.

"So Francis used to wear panties normally instead of wearing them on his head now?" Anya questioned. It was Francis' turn to look like Antonio's favorite fruit. Everyone started laughing.

"Excuse me Anya, but you have me mistaken for Gilbert who does that every other Tuesday night at the clubs." He was in denial.

"Of course Francis," she said sarcastically, "Whatever makes you smile. And before you ask, I won't take those pictures off Facebook."

Thus Alfred and Francis, mostly the host of the party, were made fun of all night.

* * *

><p><strong>Cliffhanger much? No not really. I was going to add more but I couldn't come up with anything. I decided it was time to actually post chapter two since I've been writing it since the beginning of February and it is almost April. This is kind of a fill in chapter but it also leads to the actual action and plot of the story. In other words this chapter was the stupid boring rising action nobody likes and makes people quit books after the sixth chapter. Then those said people go to see the movie version four months later after it comes out.<strong>

**And no I am NOT one of those people.**

**1. Des enfants- children (translates directly into the children but in this case it is just children)**

**2. Fermer votre bouches- Shut your mouths**

**3. I remember dissecting a frog in seventh grade… I felt like I was part of the black market… anyway I found it funny to have Francis say that since Iggy always calls him a frog. Not funny? Too bad. :)**

**I just noticed this chapter isn't as long as I hoped...but oh well. I'll try to write the next one longer, try being the keyword. **

**Hope you enjoyed!**


	3. Chapter 3

Here's chapter three… Let's see how this works out. No offence to anyone named Diane. It was the first name that came to mind.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter<strong>_** Three**

"Aw come on babe! We can make this work!" said a desperate Gilbert into his cell phone while Francis and Anya were making bets on when Diane would actually hang up on him.

"I can't wait until the bitch hangs up on him already," mumbled Anya crossing her legs.

"She might be dumb enough to at least try to listen to him," Francis continued.

"I don't think she's _that_ dumb to actually listen to the narcissistic bastard. I mean she has to make money somehow considering Gilbert never chooses to pay whenever they go to a fancy or a tad bit expensive place," the Russian spoke.

"Money doesn't mean she has brains ma chérie(1)."

"Point proven," they heard more chants- no, pleads coming from Gilbert, "But she must have some brains to not spend it all, besides she doubted for some time that his proclaimed five meters didn't exist."

"This time period you speak of Anya existed for a day," the Frenchman said stroking his stubbly chin gently. Anya looked at him for a moment.

"I may sound confused like a foolish American capitalist, but what exactly are you doing?" Francis chuckled.

"I'm stroking my chin like in the movies. Why do you ask? Does it seduce you?" Francis asked leaning closer to Anya and initiating his signature Frenchman laugh. She leaned away slightly and then punched him in the gut…_lightly_. Francis peeled away and groaned clutching himself.

Gilbert, who seemed to be done with his phone conversation, looked over.

"Fuck! First Napoleon and now Franny! You damn Russian!" the Prussian shouted running over to Francis.

"First of all Gilbert, I am a weak less female and Francis was coming onto me. I don't carry pepper spray to work. Second, I hope you do understand that the Russians had driven out Napoleon and his forces, would you like me to give you a history lesson on the Patriotic War of 1812?"

"Okay, I understand the war. I'm too awesome to have you give me a history lesson on some other country that isn't my awesome country of Prussia. Besides you aren't even a weak female. You are a seven foot two inched man that weighs two hundred pounds, who can make a room below freezing when entering and can kill someone with a punch that is stuck in a woman's body."

"Oh wow Gilbert! I am so proud of you. You actually used decent adjectives and said very long sentences. I'm proud of you! Maybe one of the English teachers can give you a C minus," Anya said as if Gilbert's words just went through her. Francis, who seemed to have been forgotten by the other two groaned. Why did he decide to have coffee breaks with the two when all they did was give him a migraine?

"Alright now, Gilbert could you leave the room for a moment?" asked Francis.

"What? But Franny!"

"Please Gilbert. Just for a minute or two," he continued.

"You're so lame Francis. Whatever, have fun being molested Anya!" Gilbert sang as he left the room. _Time to thicken the rumor that started between the students and had been slowly making its way to the staff, about Anya and Francis,_ Gilbert thought. If he was a little girl he would prance through the hallways, but he's not a little girl and a grown man with a penis five meters long.

Anya gave Francis a confused look. Somewhere very deep in her brain a voice shouted "HE'S GOING TO RAPE YOU!" Obviously the voice was just as stupid as Gilbert.

"Now that he's gone, can I ask you for a favor?" questioned Francis. Anya nodded.

"Well it's not exactly a favor…but you wouldn't mind being set up on a blind date, correct?"

"…"

"Perfect! I set you up already. And before you ask he isn't some loser and can fit up to your Soviet Papa's(3) standards. The date is tonight and I already reserved a place for the two of you. I'll text you the location later. Be there 6:30. Au revior(2)!" He left the room. Anya was left there stunned.

* * *

><p>She sighed blowing hair out of her face. Francis had told her she was going to a seafood restaurant in Manhattan. This little information would be able to help her pull off a decent look. She pulled on a pair of grey skinny jeans and a black off shoulder sweater and wrapped her signature scarf around her neck. She put on a pair of black pumps and was planning on wearing her tan shearling coat over the outfit. Anya put the full food bowl and a bowl almost overflowing with water down for Maxim and had walked him before getting ready.<p>

She looked over at the sleeping puppy that was curled up in his bed and would be for some time. Grinning, Anya grabbed her car keys and purse and pulled on her shearling. She locked the door after turning off the lights and soon left her apartment. Looking at her cell phone she plugged the address into her GPS and started heading onto her destination.

* * *

><p>Short chapter is short. Next chapter will be more Matthew. I was going to put the date into this chapter, but I have an exam tomorrow and it was time to rest.<p>

1) My dear (French)

2) Good bye (French)

3) I got this from Potap and Nastya's song Ne para. Anyway you'll see Anya's "Soviet Papa" in later chapters :)

I can picture Anya doing the skinny jeans dance and making it look like folk dance. It probably came to mind because I was listening to Rasputin by Boney M and it was the beginning of the song when I wrote that sentence.


	4. Chapter 4

Here's the fourth chapter. The restaurant in the chapter is actually based off a few restaurants. One I drove by, but never went in. It was supposed to look like it was a club in Manhattan. I think it might have been a seafood/sushi place, but I'm not exactly sure. Another one is a Japanese cuisine that's in my area that actually is based off the lounges in Manhattan, at night especially, the atmosphere changes and on some nights it actually becomes a dance floor in some parts of the place. I'll stop rambling now.

* * *

><p>French people. He was starting to hate them. Maybe he could imitate Francis' English friend and go on about how much he despises them, but it wasn't exactly the French. Actually it was a French <em>person <em>named Francis Bonnefoy. Matthew Williams was really starting to hate his cousin.

Francis had decided to take Matthew's love life into his own hands and set him up on a date, not even telling Matthew until the day of the date in the early morning. He could have refused all he wanted, could have canceled the reservation, could have killed Francis, could have made the whole blind date disappear and make it seem that there was no blind date to begin with, but part of Matthew had wanted to go on this date. Back in high school Matthew never did get as many dates as his brother did, but then again his brother never did have very long lasting relationships with any of the girls he dated. Alfred always told him that he wasn't interested in them. Then again, Matthew found his brother strange on some aspects.

As a teenager his dates were "just as rare as seeing a dodo bird" Alfred always said. Now that Matthew thought about it, his brother was a hoser. A real big hoser. This date was exciting and nerve wrecking. What should he wear? Which cologne should he put on? Matthew stopped thinking for a moment. He was starting to believe he was metrosexual.

Matthew threw on a pair of dark slacks and a light blue dress shirt. Would this work for the seafood restaurant Francis told him about? He shook his head, of course it would. What was this girl like? Was it even a girl? Of course it was a girl. Francis would never be so cruel to set him up on a date with a man. All day during work his mind drifted off and all he did was think of this date, instead of doing his job at the clinic.

Glancing in the mirror once more Matthew took a deep breath. It was show time.

* * *

><p>Neon colors bounced off the walls, music blasting, radiating a night club scene inside of the restaurant. Hostesses wore skimpy tight black dresses, hosts dressed in all black, the waiters and waitresses were following a similar uniform. Matthew sat there uncomfortable tugging at the collar of his shirt. He glanced at the white rose on the table. Of course the rose was Francis's idea. Matthew never thought he could be this nervous, he was so much more nervous than he thought he would be. A part of him feared that Francis probably set him up with a friend of one of the slutty hostesses that worked here.<p>

He started to tap his fingers rapidly against the table. Something he did when he was nervous. Matthew took a deep breath. _Everything will be okay_ he thought. Or it could go extremely wrong and he could mess up with one word or one action and the whole date will turn into a disaster. He started to tug at the collar of his shirt. This was nerve wrecking.

And so he waited a bit. He stared at the rose, he observed the others around him, watched the chefs at the sushi bar create their masterpieces. Finally, it was time for him to be extremely nervous. Turning his head back he saw a hostess walking towards his table. His date was here.

She simply sat down, and took off her shearling coat and hung it on the back of her chair. Matthew gulped nervously and reached his hand out over the table, eventually.

"I'm Matthew," he spoke. The woman seemed familiar. She took his hand and shook it.

"Anya," she said with a Russian accent on the brink of being heavy, "You look very familiar. I think I met you at Francis' party." It was all coming back to him now. "You were that fat American pig, no?" Face was ready to meet palm.

"No, that was my brother." Matthew said slightly annoyed that once again another person mistook him for Alfred, that stupid brother of his always in the spotlight.

"Thank goodness you aren't. I would've gone insane if you were. I remember now, you were that quiet guy who made the French fry in gravy dish, correct?"

"Oh, you mean poutine? It's a French-Canadian dish. My mother used to make it all the time since she's from Canada." Anya smiled.

"That's interesting." At that time a waiter came to the table. The waiter was downright annoying, at least to Matthew, he didn't notice he was there and kept trying to flirt with his date. The Russian was not amused with the failed attempts at flirtation.

"Your finest bottle of merlot," she said sternly and gave the waiter a look that will make any person want to leave as soon as possible. Matthew blinked.

"How'd you do that?"

Anya grinned and turned her head slightly into her shoulder, "It's natural." Matthew realized that he had a lot to learn about this woman. It was a good time for small talk.

"What is your profession?" questioned the Canadian.

"I teach eighth grade history at a junior high school in Manhattan, and where do you work?"

"I work as a veterinary assistant currently and I hope to open up my own clinic soon." Francis was right. This guy does fit up to her Soviet Papa's standards. The pair had continued their conversation from many different topics, as to what kind of animals they like, more about work, what sports they like (which was hockey for both of them), what their families are like, and so on.

* * *

><p>Matthew flopped down on his bed and saw his cell phone was ringing. It was Francis.<p>

"Hello?" he answered.

"How did it go mon cher?"

"Well I definitely won't be bashing your face with a hockey stick for days, did you know she liked hockey? Anyway I'll probably be so happy that I'll be shitting bricks and end up buying you that cologne you wanted, or I might just end up buying Bieber perfume. Either way, thanks Francis. This was great."

"Are you meeting again?"

Matthew smiled, "Of course."

* * *

><p>Tada! There's Chapter 4. Obviously it's late and I'm so sorry! I'm finally done with all these exams! Woohoo! Summer! And then I have homework over the summer. I'll start Chapter 5 in a day or two.<p> 


End file.
